


N&N

by Vashta_Nerada



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: AU (Naru doesn't lose her memories), Character Study, F/M, First Love, Growing Up, Psychological Trauma, all the things we love here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vashta_Nerada/pseuds/Vashta_Nerada
Summary: Naru is growing up.
Relationships: Nephrite/Osaka Naru
Kudos: 11





	N&N

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta, shadowen.

_But I'd whisper that I love this night now and for forever_

_To your soul as it floats out of the window_

_To the world that you turned your back on_

_To the world that never really let you be_

Laura Marling - Blackberry Stone

**—**

At fourteen Naru knows all sorts of things about love. because love is everywhere. It's on the pages of celebrated books. It's in the glassy eyes of her schoolmates. It's in the movies. It floats in the air, blended with the gentle voices of women who crowd their shop on weekends. It's in the cheery tone of older men who look at her legs in the streets.

With all this knowledge at her disposal, when Nephrite enters the scene, Naru is fairly confident that he is going to be her first, and maybe last, love. He's about ten years older, full of distant mystery and elegant pride. He resembles a sorrowful god, and Naru is ready to treat him like one.

She doesn't need that much, really. Her attention willingly lingers on him, longer and longer. His auburn hair alone is enough to keep her from sleep for weeks. She's lying on her back in the moonlight, eyes half-closed. She's creating him in her mind, piece by piece.

He is distinguished in every way imaginable, of course, but it's still nice to observe every minor detail of his shining perfection. She goes through his virtues the exact same way she goes through the treasures in her tiny wooden jewelry box, with quiet adoration.

Unfortunately, every once in a while, he does things that don't really fit into the picture she’s painted in her mind, and Naru has to start all over again.

It's exhausting, to come up with all these new noble excuses and grand reasons. It has been especially hard since the day she saw his handsome face distorting with hatred, so unmitigated and earnest that she felt completely blinded by the sight.

Her grades are getting worse, too.

"Usagi, do you think love should be tiring?" she finally asks one morning.

"Well, my mom always says love is a struggle, so... I guess? Who wouldn't be tired if they had to struggle all the time, right? Why? Do you have someone in mind? Do ya? Do ya?"

It is becoming a little too much for her.

And then the dance happened. Just like in all those books. The enigmatic mask, his shoulders broad and so tall that she had to reach up on her tiptoes, the entrancing sounds of music, his intoxicating and formidable gaze. He pressed her waist so hard (with passion, no doubt) that he left marks. The colors remind Naru of spring: yellow, green, and blue.

The night is moonless and bleak when Naru grasps what is really going on between them. Silly her. It's too easy, really, she smiles to herself happily. The thing is, deep down he is undeniably splendid and noble, but he can't really show it.

She just has to make him better.

Naru just needs to love him a little bit harder.

That's all, that's how they do it in the movies and the books, but she's not sure how to accomplish that, mostly because her body is barely able to contain all the love she has for him already. She's feeling a bit faint, her arms and legs trembling, her head spinning harder every time his eyes glide over her.

It's a beautiful day, but his skin is cold, like a dead fish, when his blood-covered figure fades into the warm, sunlit air. 

She's probably going to die, too.

There is no way a human can live with a heart filled with such anguish and grief.

**—**

At twenty-two she knows nothing about love. Nevertheless, she has found new friends and peace, at last. She’s finally glad that he never got a chance to actually engage with her and their little make-believe romance. She’s thrilled that they never shared anything more meaningful than a few electrifying touches. (except for his death, except that he sacrificed himself for her, except for that one time when she did an impossible thing for him). She shudders at the thought of what would’ve become of the sweet fourteen years old girl, had they truly started dating, had she tasted his lips and tongue.

Naru knows for certain that he would’ve ruined her, sooner rather than later.

She still misses him, though. His graceful gestures, other-worldly eyes, and the incomprehensible strength of his arms are the things that no one on Earth can match.

And yet, sometimes, she feels such rage that the sheer power of it petrifies her. On hot, muggy summer nights, she stands on her balcony and stares deep into the dark windows of the house across the street, her pupils dilated and neck flushed with blood-lust and unbearable hunger for vengeance. She would give anything, anything at all, for the opportunity to crack open his skull and meticulously dissect his thoughts.

She would give even more to protect her past self from him.

_What were you thinking, flirting with a child of fourteen? Why? What were you thinking? What the hell were you thinking?_

There are no answers and no closure to be found. A few times, she tried to compose it in her head, to make sense of what happened to her, like she used to when she was a girl, but she couldn’t really recall his voice. After all these years, it’s only natural to forget.

His gaze, ice-cold and amused, however, seem to survive in her head perfectly well.

On very rare and frankly miserable occasions she thinks that now, in her twenties, she would be able to handle him, with all his cruelty and disdain and harrowing allure. She is resilient enough, smart enough, and strong enough now. Perhaps they were never a Beauty and the Beast type of thing. Perhaps they were the right people meeting at the wrong time.

Perhaps she could have saved him.

Naru throws herself on the bed and closes her eyes, allowing her arms to roam her body with fierce confusion. In her mind, the shadowy ghost behind the curtains is standing still, listening, watching.

She tries to come and fall asleep as quickly as possible.

**—**

At thirty-six, Naru knows a thing or two about love. 

For one, she undeniably has a type. 

Natsumi is tall, has auburn hair, broad shoulders, and warm lips. Her eyes turn into two half-moons when she’s smiling.

They travel the world, just the two of them. They enjoy picnics and kisses under blossoming cherry trees. They lay all night, talking and crying and making love. They argue and make each other laugh, and then simply can’t stop laughing.

Every so often, on the day of the dead, Nephrite emerges from her memories. To Naru, he seems like a boy now, aloof and affected, jaw clenched, ostentatious cruelty written all over the face. Someone really should have cuddled him more often as a child.

Small fragments of happiness and utter joy are enshrined in her everyday life. 

Naru doesn’t have to make up excuses for Natsumi, not now, not ever.


End file.
